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The Princess: Ask me no more

Ask me no more: the moon may draw the sea;
        The cloud may stoop from heaven and take the shape,
        With fold to fold, of mountain or of cape;
But O too fond, when have I answer’d thee?
               Ask me no more.
 
Ask me no more: what answer should I give?
        I love not hollow cheek or faded eye:
        Yet, O my friend, I will not have thee die!
Ask me no more, lest I should bid thee live;
               Ask me no more.
 
Ask me no more: thy fate and mine are seal’d:
        I strove against the stream and all in vain:
        Let the great river take me to the main:
No more, dear love, for at a touch I yield;
               Ask me no more.
Other works by Lord Alfred Tennyson...



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